


Thaw

by clownsick, JessenoSabaku (orphan_account)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bodyguard, Canon Divergence, Comedy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, No Fat Shaming, Not a lot though, Romance, Self-Indulgent, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sometimes Zarya is Racist, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13405989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clownsick/pseuds/clownsick, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/JessenoSabaku
Summary: Though Russia's winters have always been long and unyielding, year by year they get worse. When Volskaya Industries nearly loses their mechs and other valuable research to a cold snap, Overwatch offers to send one of their own to help resolve the situation. Volskaya assigns Zarya to be the Overwatch agent's bodyguard and tells her to behave, but Zarya can't help it--she doesn't trust this "Mei-ling Zhou" one bit. For the sake of her country, she has no choice but to watch over their new guest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with clownsick! We hope you enjoy our super indulgent ZaMei fic. Rating may or may not go up later--we're still kind of mapping the story out so we'll see what the future brings.

Zarya stood on the helipad, scanning the gray clouds for the Overwatch transport ship. An entire fleet of soldiers surrounded her, no weapons but covered from head to toe in Kevlar. Zarya herself lacked a weapon, feeling bare, but not at all helpless. Some of the soldiers were Volskaya’s--others were sent by other parties who did not trust the President to provide adequate help. If this pickup went well--which it would--Zarya hoped Volskaya would quash the dissenters for their treason. She had suggested as much when next they were alone. Volskaya’s voice had been colder than the St. Petersburg air when she ordered Zarya to stop protesting and behave.

The buzz of low voices and the clacking of armor grated on Zarya’s ears. She pulled her fur cap down tighter. Winter was in full force. Though Russia was no stranger to harsh winters, the snow and the chill had hit them with Siberian strength. All of Volskaya’s research labs and the country’s mechs had nearly frozen over. Years of sustained research were lost to the elements. The mechs were already showing signs of disrepair. They couldn’t lose any more of their resources.

And who but Overwatch would be so gracious to swoop in to help when Volskaya was vulnerable? Zarya scoffed as she pulled her collar up further. They’re sending a scientist to help, Volskaya said. Researcher from the Antarctic. Created a technology that can manipulate ice--knows how to safeguard their facilities from the cold. The alliance was tentative, Volskaya assured her, and if Overwatch showed signs of being a threat, the deal was off. But in the meantime, Zarya had been assigned to this scientist as a bodyguard.

Zarya didn’t trust Overwatch. She didn’t trust this scientist. And she especially didn’t trust the fidgety entourage who awaited the scientist’s arrival with her on the helipad. Zarya had thoroughly stripped each soldier of their Kevlar to make sure they hadn’t hidden weapons anywhere. She could take them.

In the distance she saw the Overwatch transport aircraft emerge from the clouds. They flashed a blue light in a coded pattern to signal their arrival. Zarya returned the signal herself with a small spotlight on the roof. The aircraft flew in close and slowly descended with a gust of wind. The soldiers fell back, moving into a nervous formation behind the immovable Zarya. She sighed. Cowards.

As the aircraft touched down and its engines began to slow, Zarya prepared to behold the esteemed scientist. She had a good knack for predicting faces and demeanors from mere description. As a soldier, she had seen plenty of the scientific kind. She could see her charge now: tall, hardened by winter, cold but flippant and self-assured. Knowing that Russia’s future was in her hands, and thinking that gave her power. Zarya would disavow her of that notion immediately. Zarya would never allow Overwatch to do anything to hurt Volskaya, and would take disciplinary action into her own hands if she must. She would never for a moment let the woman out of her sight.

The aircraft finally touched down, and soon the door folded open. A number of Overwatch agents poured out and flanked the opening on both sides, standing at the ready to defend if they were needed. And then from behind them, in the darkness of the interior, a lone figure stepped out in thick, fur-lined boots. A young woman, wrapped in an eskimo’s garb, puffed out like a swollen pelmeni, and shorter than anyone on the rooftop. After her, there came no one else.

Eyes narrowing, Zarya leaned over to another soldier and asked in Russian, “I must be mistaken. _This_ is our scientist?”

“I believe so,” the man answered with trepidation. Whether it was fear of the situation, or fear of Zarya’s commanding tone, she didn’t know.

She turned her eyes back to the short woman, who had reached the end of the ramp and was now only a few feet away. She asked her, “Are you Miss Mei-ling Zhou?”

“That’s me.” The woman’s voice was deceptively sweet. She looked up at Zarya with eyes that betrayed none of the trickiness Zarya knew was a constant in these types. She would not allow herself to be fooled. This Overwatch agent wouldn’t bat an eyelash at betraying them the moment she had a good opportunity. She tilted her head at Zarya. “And who might you be?"

“Aleksandra Nikolaevna Zaryanova. I have been appointed as a bodyguard for you for the duration of your stay.”

“Oh, I see! It’s very nice to meet you.” Zarya nodded curtly and gestured with her arm, beginning to lead her off the helipad. The woman followed closely, huffing onto her mittens. “It sure is chilly!"

“It is winter.” Zarya narrowed her eyes, pacing herself so the scientist did not fall out of her line of sight. “It is to be expected.”

“Not as chilly as the Antarctic! Will I be meeting with Miss Volskaya?”

“Not today. I have been instructed to take you to the facility where you will be staying.”

The two stepped onto an elevator pad, waiting a moment before they began to descend into the facility below. The building was not much warmer than the biting wind outside, but it afforded them a view of the mechs. The scientist cooed at them, clapping her hands together once. “I didn’t expect them to be so big!”

Staring out at the mechs, Zarya kept her expression steely. Once she too had thought them an object of awe. That amazement had been dulled by the burdens of war and the realization that, apparently, even these behemoths were vulnerable to the elements.

“Welcome to Russia,” Zarya said simply, though not without a hint of pride. “Here we do everything big.”

The pad soon reached the dormitory floor and Zarya stepped out first, allowing the scientist past after a cursory scan of the environment. She led her down the corridor, their footsteps echoing, until they reached a door near the end of the hall. The door slid open to reveal a pristine room, decked out with a bed with an ornate metal frame, several thick blankets, a desk, a bureau drawer, and a television all set up specifically for the scientist’s visit. Zarya grimaced. This was luxury in comparison to what the other workers lived like on this floor. This level of care seemed unnecessary.

“Here is where you will stay. I trust you will find the accommodations suitable. We have vacated the adjacent rooms.”

She pointed to two doors on opposite sides of the room. “The left is set up for you as a small lab and storage room, for your personal use. If it does not fit your requirements, tell me immediately. And the other room--that is where I will sleep.” She gave the scientist a hard-edged stare to convey the solidity of her devotion. “When I sleep.”

“Oh my.” Zarya’s eyes narrowed as she waited for any disapproval. “I wasn’t told I would be assigned a bodyguard. Are you sure that’s necessary?”

“If Miss Volskaya says so, then it absolutely is.” Zarya watched the scientist pad around the room, dropping her bag of belongings on the bed without a care. She wasn’t sure she cared for that attitude. “If there are any further accommodations you require, let me know now.”

“Food would be nice.” The woman was walking back towards her, a venomous snake no doubt hiding behind that smile. “Maybe something toasty to drink. Where would I go for food?”

For a moment, Zarya considered taking her down to the canteen where the assembly men feasted on terrible coffee, soup, and burnt potatoes. “There is a lounge down a few floors from here where the scientists and engineers go to eat. If we are particularly unlucky, you might meet one of them.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? I am excited to meet everyone,” her charge answered, rosy cheeks lifting so high they squished her eyes into menacing slits.

It was most certainly not a good thing. Getting to know the other technical professionals on-site would be a chore. And to get everyone to be civil would be even worse. Zarya chose to forego explaining this in favor of cracking her own room open briefly to toss her hat and coat on the ground. The bodysuit underneath didn’t offer much warmth, but it was enough. She then locked both of their rooms and led the scientist back to the elevator pad. The woman hesitated in front of it, looking back with feigned concern.

“Won’t you be cold?”

“My bodysuit is thermoregulated. I am used to the cold by now. Besides, I’ve found that if they can see the weapons,” Zarya patted one muscular arm with severity, “it discourages them from misbehavior. Please--the elevator.”

They both climbed on, the scientist giggling quietly as the doors closed and they went down. She acts like a child, Zarya thought. They would see how long she could continue playing the part.

They arrived at the lounge to find nobody there except the staff in the adjacent kitchen. One of the chefs had been lazing around until Zarya showed up and shot him a scathing look. The scientist plopped down at a small table near the kitchen and struggled to scoot forward in the chair. Zarya gestured to her and said to the chef in Russian, “This is Mei-ling Zhou, the new scientist. She wants something warm to eat and drink. Don’t displease her. And if she has even the slightest bit of indigestion, I will report you for suspicion of treason.”

The chef gulped, nodded, and made a somewhat theatrical bow in the scientist’s direction. She bowed her head at him too, seeming a little confused.

“Miss Zhou, please tell the man what you would like,” Zarya instructed.

“We have a few different teas, if you would like that,” the chef rushed to say, rattling off the kinds they had. “We also have hot chocolate.”

“Some chai would be nice.” The scientist watched the man with a deceptively curious look. No doubt trying to find some way to manipulate him if needed. Zarya knew the type - always having a plan to blackmail everyone they met. “And some snacks, if you don’t mind!”

The man started on the tea, quickly putting together some bread with meats and cheeses. He served it to her nervously and she gave him a befuddled look, stacking the items and eating them like that. “Do you want some, Miss Aleksandra?”

Zarya watched her crude eating behavior with some fascination. She frowned at the careless use of her first name, but decided against correcting it. Let the woman have some fun figuring out the proper way to address her colleagues later.

“I already ate,” Zarya informed her. After determining that her charge had not keeled over from the food and no subterfuge seemed present, she sat down at the table with her arms crossed. “Do not take too long. We will have to take you to the labs next. The President told me you wanted to look over the equipment.”

The meal passed without incident, and the scientist’s stomach did not even gurgle in complaint. Their chef would live to cook another day at Volskaya Industries. Zarya almost wished he had tried something. They could have made an episode of it. Would have freed her from continuing their tour. But no, the woman was as plucky as ever, and now that food had restored some of her energy, she was fascinated with each nodule and screw poking out of every wall.

This might be the longest winter day Zarya had ever weathered. For the glory of Russia, she told herself, and faithfully showed the scientist to her new playgrounds.

-

Zarya stood outside the closed door of Miss Volskaya’s office. She had been in there for some time with their new ally and Zarya was just waiting for the slightest hint of a raised voice. She would barge in so fast it would make the little Overwatch agent’s head spin.

When the door finally clicked open she stiffened up, eyes narrowing as the scientist exited the room. Miss Volskaya was close behind and fixed Zarya with a meaningful stare.

“You will allow her full access to all equipment. Make sure she has whatever she needs and that everything is on schedule. I will not tolerate any mistakes that jeopardize our security.” She nodded at Mei. “I leave you in her capable hands. You will be safe here.”

“Thank you, Miss Volskaya.” Her sweet smile was met with a curt nod and, after another look at Zarya, Volskaya disappeared back into the office and shut the door sharply. Mei breathed out, shoulders relaxing a bit. “She really is quite the lady, isn’t she?”

At least that was something they could agree on. “Of course. She kept Russia standing through the Crisis. She is far beyond the both of us. Are you ready to begin working?”

“Almost,” the scientist answered, pinching her fingers with a smile. “I should probably see the mechs. Miss Volskaya said you would show me.”

Ah. So that’s what the President had meant by “access to all equipment.” Seemed Zarya would need her coat after all.

After making a trip back to the room to bundle up more, they got on the elevator pad and went down dozens of floors. Outside, they saw the imposing mechs, growing taller as they descended until they were almost looking up from beneath. As soon as the doors opened, a blistering rush of cold air blew in. Thankfully the mech bay was closed up, but even with heaters on full blast and all measures taken to insulate the area, the Russians simply couldn’t compete with mother nature. Not even Volskaya.

Zarya led them over to one of the dormant mechs and activated it with a special access code she received personally from Volskaya. She did not have full clearance herself to actually use the mechs--that required a secondary accessing mechanism, meant only for operators. However, she was able to open the mech and open up its cockpit, putting all of its controls on display.

“These are the Svyatogor. First iteration--we had one prototype preceding,” Zarya said. In fact, the only other model they had was the prototype. They were gradually working towards a second model and a separate model to serve other purposes, made using the same tech. That was why preserving the current mechs was imperative.

“I can see why something like this could have problems.” Zarya immediately stiffened up at the perceived slight. “They’re so big! So many intricate mechanisms in one robot. Especially in the cold. I’ll have to work hard to adapt the technology.”

“See to it that you do.” Miss Volskaya was holding her to a high standard, and if she couldn’t live up to it then they would have no need of her and nothing to offer in return.

“Of course!” Mei turned her gaze out of the enclosure, looking out past the Neva river to the city beyond where mechs stood, fully operational. Her cheeks were red from the cold, but she still kept that foolishly cheerful smile. “It’s been a while since I was faced with such a challenge. They’ll be up and running with the new tech in no time. That’s a personal promise.”

At least she had gumption, Zarya would give her that.

-

A little over a week had passed since Mei began working. Every morning she went into the labs, clomping towards the other scientists in her clunky boots, addressing them in a chipper voice. Zarya would linger not too far away, but not close enough to interfere with their work. The first meeting was rough--Mei had neglected to address the other scientists and technicians by their first and middle names, and immediately incurred displeasure. The confusion on her face was almost enough to make Zarya regret not having told her of their customs beforehand. She rectified this later, begrudgingly apologizing to Mei for her own ignorance.

Most of the time when Mei was working Zarya would tune out all the sophisticated chatter and focus her mind on their surroundings. She could judge by a glance, a mere toss of the head, or a shift in the air when an interaction showed signs of escalating. There was no need to listen carefully to every word spoken in the laboratories.

The amicability of their new guest, however, threw her instincts off. It took Zarya a few days too long to realize when the cursory abruptness of her Russian colleagues became more than the standard faire. One day, after a few hours of standing around, then following Mei to fetch something, and then more standing around, Zarya’s ears caught the faintest hint of an argument brewing. Mei’s politely disarming tones almost kept Zarya from grasping the content of the conversation.

“... said he would have it by today, and I don’t see how we can run the tests if--”

The scientist she was talking to cut her off with some words Zarya couldn’t quite parse. His face was a blank mask the entire time. As he walked away to tend to one of the machines, Mei turned and sighed, vestiges of her smile still clinging to her mouth. Zarya intentionally drew her gaze and pointed to the other scientist questioningly. Mei simply shook her head, reapplied her grin and set back to work with stilted vigor.

That was how the next few days carried on. Zarya started paying more attention, and although she was never close enough to gain the privilege of hearing whole arguments, she was made privy to excerpts. Many times that Mei spoke with her new colleagues, she would meet with some kind of verbal resistance, and walk away discouraged. Normally Zarya would take this as a sign of her initial impressions of Mei being true. Only, there was one small problem.

No progress was being made. At all. A cold snap beset the Industries, and another wave of bacterial cultures in the lab were lost. The mechs froze over again, and though they survived, might need several days to completely thaw. Volskaya nearly lost her mind.

It was that night that, in the privacy of Mei’s specially-prepared room, Zarya intruded to have a chat. The scientist was just folding her coat and putting it on the ground when Zarya came in.

“You have made no progress. We lost a lot today, very valuable experiments,” Zarya reprimanded. She swore she saw Mei jolt a little before resuming with her usual smile. “Tell me why this happened.”

The little scientist did not have words, it seemed. For a moment she just floundered before providing the most politely technical response she could. “We've just finished the first phase of making improvements for the mechs. Before we can start phase two, I need the results of a few test projects I sent to the lab. I was told they were on schedule, but now they seem to be delayed. I have been working on as much as I can without them, but we can't proceed until I get them back.”

“Delayed,” Zarya repeated drily, eyes narrowed. “How strange, that Russia’s greatest should run into such a long delay.”

Her charge made a cheery off-hand comment about how such incidents were bound to happen every once in a while. Problem was, those kinds of delays didn’t happen at Volskaya Industries. They just didn’t. And if they _did_ , someone damn well _reported_ to the highest authority about it within the hour.

Arms crossed, Zarya asked, “It is also strange for you to know so little. Do they not let you in the lab?”

“Oh, they do! But I haven't been able to actually get a look at any of the specimens. They said I would need higher clearance to get a look.”

They had shooed her away, or so she claimed. It certainly wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that Volskaya’s scientists would want to push the newcomer out. They no doubt wanted to prove that they could improve the mechs themselves, but in their posturing had wasted an unknowable amount of money along with Volskaya’s time. It was unforgivable.

“There is no clearance higher than the President’s orders. Tomorrow you will see the specimens. I will make them see reason.”

“You don’t have to go to the trouble,” Mei assured, waving her little hands. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Forget your politeness, Miss Zhou. The only way to deal with one of us is to bust through.”

Zarya again patted one arm to remind the scientist that intimidation was par for the course. The worst it could do was hurt feelings. Unless she needed to hurt more than feelings, of course. They weren’t at that point yet.

A strange sound came from the scientist. It took a moment to register that she had giggled at her. She had laughed at Zarya once before, when talking about her bodysuit. Zarya wondered what was so funny.

“Well, in that case I appreciate any help I can get. Thank you, Miss Aleksandra.”

A burden seemed to be lightened from the scientist’s expression. Zarya had the thought that perhaps this pudgy little woman was unable to bust through anything, though she had been told of some terror she faced in the Antarctic.

Zarya supposed not even an unforgiving continent of ice could stand up to a few stubborn Rus.

-

In the morning, she arrived at her charge’s door without her coat. As they hurried to the labs, Zarya could hear the scientist chuckling at her bodysuit again. Well, let her laugh. There were more important things than pride.

Zarya stomped through the doors to the main laboratories and pushed past the stilted greetings of other scientists with such speed that Mei’s pattering footsteps struggled to keep up.

“Which lab?” Zarya asked, and the little woman pointed it out to her. She took off again, heavy, solid, and unfeeling as a tank.

When they got into the secondary lab she paused again, keeping them hidden behind a few machines. “Do you know where they keep the specimens?”

Again, Mei pointed to a large holding chamber with many different cultures from various projects. So she even knew where they were, and still could not look at them. Zarya raised her shoulders and sauntered over to the holding chamber. She made sure her steps rattled some drawers and petri dishes nearby.

A group of congregated scientists were in her way and she barreled through them, almost knocking one down. She began pulling out drawers with different cultures, making as big a show of rifling through them as she could without harming anything.

The scientist she’d nearly bowled over frantically came to her side and said in Russian, “What are you doing? Who let you in here?”

Zarya held up her level-5 identification card, one of many keys she had access to under the President’s beneficence. Using English, she answered purposefully, “Volskaya. No progress is being made on the Svyatogor. I am checking on your work.”

“Just let me do it,” the scientist offered with a somewhat overly-polite tone. “I can let you look, but we’ve had a bit of a delay, you see--”

“And you are telling me this now?” Zarya snapped. She returned to her theatrical search of the holding chamber. “I shall see to this myself.”

From another scientist across the room, Zarya just made out in dulcet Russian tones that she was, at heart, “another idiot soldier.” She didn’t bother correcting them. Instead, she turned her head when Mei shyly advanced on the party and asked with meek, upturned eyes, “Miss Aleksandra?”

Perfect timing.

“Miss Zhou. You know the specimen, right? Come get it for me please, and tell me what you see.” The other scientist reasserted his willingness to help, and Zarya held up a hand to warn him. “Mind your attitude. Please, Miss Zhou.”

The little woman hurried over with renewed eagerness and began taking the specimens down, looking them over carefully and freely using equipment. It seemed she had taken Zarya’s advice to heart. Good.

“These samples are in bad shape. They've been left too long. I can use maybe half of them, but…” She began to mutter to herself in her native tongue, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Zarya backed off long enough to stand as a sentinel in the lab. The other researchers did nothing else to impede their progress, though a few shot Zarya dirty looks when they thought she wouldn't notice. All that mattered was that progress was being made and that they were back on schedule. Time passed slowly in such a place, but the little scientist wore the expression of a child at a playground rather than a hardened professional. It seemed she truly enjoyed her work.

They stayed there late, far later than any of the scientists they had originally walked in on. Eventually it was just them and two researchers taking the night shift and giving them a wide berth. Their guest had not stopped for food or rest and seemed absolutely absorbed in her tasks.

Zarya approached her work station, eyeing the various holo-screens full of recorded data that Mei was working on. She also saw a lot of tools whose functions she had no chance of knowing.

“You seem to be keeping good pace,” Zarya noted, more an observation than a compliment. “Do you intend to work through the night?”

“Yes, if that's alright.” Mei straightened up from a table to look at her, glasses slightly askew. “I might be able to save more of the samples if I hurry.”

Zarya nodded. “That is promising. However, we must stop to eat. The kitchen will close soon. The night will be cold, and colder still for those with empty stomachs.”

Mei jumped at the opportunity, abandoning her work for the moment to follow Zarya to the kitchen area. There she put away a sizeable amount of food, no doubt starving from having spent the entire day in the lab with unsavory company. She became a bit dozy for a while after eating, trudging a little more heavily down the hallway, but once she had returned to her environment she lit right back up.

Volskaya would be pleased by this turn of events. Zarya would get results for her if she had to pry them from the other scientists’ cold, dead hands. Russia did not have time to wait for petty squabbles and they were only lucky that the newcomer seemed to acknowledge that.


	2. Chapter 2

The newfound progress marked a change in the scientist's routine. She worked around the clock with renewed vigor now that she had the means to do so, catching naps here and there. Watching her work was satisfying, mainly because Zarya knew Volskaya would be satisfied with the results. However, since Mei’s tasks surpassed any of Zarya’s knowledge on science, watching quickly became boring. 

Mei had been bustling around the lab since early morning that day. Zarya was fortunate enough to have the presence of mind to bring her gun for polishing early on. Night had now fallen and she had just completed taking apart, polishing, and putting back together each delicate piece of machinery. Still, she was restless. 

This was not the livelihood she imagined years ago when she bought her first set of one hundred-pound weights. Slow moments like this brought back memories of contests and the excitement of the stage. After years of service, a thrilling and deep connection to the President, and endless devotion, this was where she found herself. Reduced to cleaning her arms for entertainment. When was the last time she had a moment alone to even lift weights? Must have been at least a week. That was a concern: staying strong enough to protect her charge. That might be difficult since she had to observe Mei around the clock.

She hefted her trusty graviton gun with one hand, testing the weight. The weapon was pretty standard for soldiers of her class and weight, so it was a good metric for gauging her strength. Was that a twinge of weakness she felt in her palm? Just the slightest untoward shift from one thin string of muscle? She lifted it up once to check, then again, and again a few more times. Hard to tell if there had been any change. Normally with this weight she could make it at least one hundred and fifty reps before feeling a difference. She wondered what a good midway point would be as she kept lifting her gun, until she was staring off into space. Maybe seventy-five--

“Are you lifting, Miss Aleksandra?”

A sweet voice broke her concentration, though she did not stop lifting. Mei stood close by, hair messy as she bent over a clip board. Her feet barely touched the ground in the chair she was sitting on. She had been poring over the same paperwork for a while now. “I bet this gets pretty boring.” 

“I am meant for a different kind of work,” Zarya responded tactfully, keeping a steady count in her mind. “I have to stay in shape. Not a lot of time for weight training right now.”

She peered over at the scientist’s papers, one dark eyebrow raising. A little less tactfully, she commented, “Are _you_ not bored by these tasks? I imagine most of the sciences are as cumbersome as they are important.”

“This part can get a little boring.” Mei tapped the pen to her clipboard. She tilted her head at the gun, apparently unable to curb her scientific curiosity. “Does that gun launch grenades? How does it work?”

Zarya paused and cracked a pleased smirk. “You can tell by the barrel, can’t you? Not grenades, but a special type of explosive charge. The gun uses a particle beam for primary fire, and the charge is a concentrated projectile.”

She activated the gun just long enough to show Mei the concave area where the particle energy collected, glowing blue and purple. “This conducts the energy from the ammunition, which is loaded inside the gun before battle. No cartridges to juggle, so very little reload time. Everything else is done inside the barrel.”

She deactivated her weapon and folded back the gray front-pieces of the barrel so Mei could peek inside at the particle beam emitter. Normally she might be loathe to show off her weapons, but since the graviton gun was standard use, she saw no need to hide it--everyone with a mind to research could figure out how it worked, in Russia and anywhere else. Knowing Russia’s technology was only half the battle. A battle no one had won against them yet.

“Wow, so efficient. It looks so heavy though, I don’t think I’d be able to lift it off of the ground!” That was likely. Mei was not only small; Zarya had so far failed to see any proof of muscle mass at all. The scientist tapped her pen absently against her hair, humming thoughtfully. “I bet you could drop it on someone and it would take them out.” 

As if Zarya would ever drop her gun. She began the reps again, picking up on counting where she’d left off. Mei scooted her rolling chair over a bit, watching her lift. “Were you always a soldier, Miss Aleksandra?” 

“No. Many years ago I was a bodybuilder. I won a number of weightlifting championships.” Zarya made a pleased sound as she remembered stage lights and the adrenaline of competition. And the adoring fans, of course. Many of them were beautiful women who wanted to be strong like her someday. “I was competing to be the strongest woman in Russia when the country went to war in the Second Omnic Crisis. The military called on me, and I answered. So I suppose you can say that in my heart I was always a soldier.”

She turned to look at Mei, watching her eyes follow the reps up and down with surprising entrancement. “What about you? I have heard the people of your country decide what they wish to be from childhood.”

“What?” Mei blinked, taken aback. “Ah, I don’t think that’s… true?” 

Zarya continued to lift, watching as Mei recovered from whatever she’d said that had apparently offended her. She adjusted her glasses before continuing. “When I was a child I wanted to be a chef. I would try to cook when my parents were out and I’d nearly burn down the kitchen every time. It always tasted horrible--oh, it was so bad Miss Aleksandra. That was before I found my true calling! Now I mix chemicals. Much easier than cooking.” 

Zarya barked out a short laugh. She supposed some destinies were set later in life.

A lightness came to Mei’s eyes, something almost dreamy. “That’s amazing that you were a bodybuilder. Would you ever do it again?” 

Zarya glanced up at her gun, chewing the inside of her lip. The familiar weight had become somewhat of a comfort over the years. The sense of purpose, too.

“Perhaps. Competitions were fun, but took all of my time. And ultimately I lacked in direction. I simply wanted to be the strongest. An admirable goal, but with no applications. Here,” Zarya looked back at Mei and locked eyes with her. She gave the scientist a small smile. “Here, I protect Russia’s miracles. I am part of something greater than myself.”

The dreamy look in Mei’s eyes didn’t leave, a smile coming to her lips that could be described as mischievous. She ducked her head for a moment, seeming almost bashful, then looked back up at Zarya with what might have been admiration. “I can understand that. I felt that way when I joined Overwatch. Good intentions alone can’t save people, but practical application can.” 

Zarya narrowed her eyes curiously. That bashful look didn’t leave Mei’s face and if Zarya believed her instincts--which she did--the scientist even seemed a bit flustered. She fixed Zarya with a smile. “I think what you and Miss Volskaya are doing for your country is very admirable.” 

Flattery would never make Zarya cave in her devotion. It did, however, light up her chest with a small burst of warm pride. The fact that Mei saw her and Volskaya as two pieces of the same unit also made her happy. She counted her last rep and lowered the barrel of her gun to the ground, leaning on it.

“Miss Volskaya is the truly admirable force. I am just some extra muscle. But if you insist on compliments for this old soldier, I must gratefully accept.”

Mei giggled, cheeks rising in amusement. Zarya still did not fully trust this woman, but her smile had become less menacing over time. Another scientist, bedraggled and low on sleep, came into the room and spoke sharply. 

“Miss Zhou. We do not have time for idle chatting today. Have you finished?” 

Mei quickly turned around, leaning over the desk and gathering her papers. “Yes!” 

Zarya watched as they spoke with each other then lifted her gun and tuned them out while she started a new set of reps. It was going to be a long night. 

-

Things were progressing smoothly on the scientific front as far as Zarya could tell, but she still felt a slight disturbance in the air. There was something up with Mei. She had suddenly become even messier in appearance and while it didn’t really affect her work, there was something to be said for maintaining a professional look. A little bit of upkeep would certainly help keep the other scientists off her back. She also looked much more haggard, exhausted despite there being no change in her work hours, and dark circles were constantly present under her eyes. 

One time Zarya had asked her if anything was amiss, interrupting sleepy staring into a mug of tea. She had seemed confused, then quickly assured her that nothing was wrong. Zarya could not begin to identify the problem even though they spent every waking moment together. The notion grew more and more troubling as the deadline for adjustments to the mechs drew near. 

As Zarya walked Mei back to her room one night, the scientist stumbled and nearly collapsed in the corridor. Luckily, Zarya caught her, hands sinking into the soft flesh of her side. She had been correct--no muscle. She quickly helped Mei back to her feet and asked if she was okay. As usual, the response was some unenlightening assurance that everything was fine.

Over the past week, Zarya had relaxed her vigilance enough to see Mei back to her room and then leave her to have some privacy. Since their rooms were right next to each other, Zarya would be able to hear if Mei left, or anything happened. And though she was still suspicious she was less worried about betrayal. This time, after Mei trudged back into her room, Zarya lingered in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Mei gave her a sleepy goodbye and began preparing for bed, not quite aware that Zarya was still present.

The soldier’s eyes darted around the room expectantly. She scoped out the bed and saw the pillow and blankets were both luxury grade. Mattress too, by the looks of it, but hard to know without testing the give herself. There wasn’t much in the room, but all the essentials were present. Mei had also added a few things to her room, such as posters and knick-knacks, with Zarya’s permission. Maybe the toilet was clogged? Was that enough to cause undue stress and sleep-deprivation?

As she contemplated, Mei finally turned back around, holding a small pile of clothes in her hands. She rubbed her eyes in confusion, asking, “Miss Aleksandra? I thought you left. What’s wrong?”

Zarya glanced back to her charge, examining the dark circles on her face. “I am just curious about your accommodations. You have lived here for a while now. Do they meet your standards?”

“Yes,” Mei answered in a chipper tone. A smile leapt back onto her face, thick as plaster. “I have no complaints.”

Zarya was silent for a moment. She gave the room a once-over again, feeling a shudder pass through her body. Something felt wrong with the room. It had to be the room. She looked over to the clothes in Mei’s hand, seeing her expression waver just slightly. An extra shirt and pair of pants. They looked like undergarments. Another shudder passed through Zarya’s body and it suddenly hit her.

She looked straight through Mei, face chiseled and stern. “How long has the heater been broken?”

Mei stared uncomprehendingly, then the cogs in her mind turned sharply. Her eyes widened and she looked over at the thermostat on the wall as if noticing it for the first time. “It’s broken? I thought we were just having a really bad cold spell.” 

Surprise was replaced by embarrassment and she began fussing with her clothes, then dropped them and went over to the thermostat. She rested her fists on her hips, giving it a stern look. “I guess I’ve had my mind in too many places. It didn’t even occur to me that it might be broken.” 

No doubt she had heard horror stories of Russia’s cold and assumed they didn’t have the technology to combat it. Mei tapped the thermostat then made a defeated noise, shoulders sinking. “Well… I’ll be fine for another night.” 

Zarya watched a shiver go through her. These accommodations would not do for a guest at their facility. She put a hand on Mei’s shoulder and turned her so they could face each other. “Why did you not tell me earlier? Cold spell, broken heater--neither is a problem. We at least have blankets.”

“It’s not a big deal though!” Mei responded, frantically waving one little hand. “No worse than Antarctica. I promise.”

Sighing and shaking her head, Zarya bent down to pluck the clothes from where Mei dropped them and, despite subsequent protests, tossed them back on top of the bureau they came from. “You cannot sleep here tonight. An extra shirt will not fix this. I will send a message to our building’s technician and he will fix the heater by tomorrow. Tonight you can stay with me in my room.”

“Oh?” Surprise lit up Mei’s face. She adjusted her glasses out of nervous habit, tapping her finger against them lightly. “Well… I suppose if that’s not a problem. But what about you?” 

“I will be fine,” Zarya assured her, turning and making for the door. “I will prepare the room for you. Come when you have your essentials.” 

She proceeded to her room and began tidying what was there. She kept it in order and it only took a minute to move her things to one side of the room. Mei took a while, probably brushing her teeth. When she finally came in she was wearing cozy looking pajamas covered in clouds. The impracticality made Zarya’s brow furrow, but they were functional at least. 

“Thank you, Miss Aleksandra. I really appreciate it, but… where will you sleep?” 

Zarya gestured matter-of-factly to a sleeping bag and pillow on the floor, swaddled in a thick extra blanket. “I am always prepared. I’ve used these for missions before, so they are military-grade. Very cozy.”

“Oh, that’s good!” Mei seemed put at ease, coming in and padding over to the bed. She sat on the edge, sinking down, then buried herself under the blankets right away. At least she seemed comfortable with the arrangement. She sat up, looking over at Zarya curiously, then gave a huge yawn that she made no attempts to hide. It was understandable, Zarya supposed. She must have gone many nights without rest.

Zarya turned off the lights and walked over to a small desk against the wall near the bed, plopping down into the chair. “I will wake very early, so make sure you set your own alarm. You can use the clock next to the bed. I’m will take care of a few matters before sleeping.”

With a wave of her hand she pulled up a holographic display over the desk and pressed her hand on the blue surface. It read her fingerprints and brought up all her applications. She immediately began writing a message to the technician to fix the heater. She paused when she heard the shuffling of sheets and turned back to see Mei’s eyes peeking out over the covers, looking at the screen and then her.

Zarya pointed at her, brows set in a fierce and intimidating line. “For official eyes only. And don’t even think about surprise attacks while my back is turned.”

When Mei actually started to look alarmed, Zarya relented and gave her a short wink before getting back to her transmission. Not like she actually had anything to worry about. Mei was unlikely to cause trouble, and even if she did, Zarya could take her.

Mei giggled softly and curled up in the bed, no longer peeking. Zarya finished up and laid down, settling in comfortably. She was used to sleeping in much worse conditions than this. The bed might have been in the soldiers’ quarters, but it was still luxurious and actually made it harder for her to sleep. She closed her eyes and settled down, mind ticking off numbers like she was counting reps. An old trick that had helped her get to sleep for years. Tonight would be no--

“Miss Aleksandra?” A soft voice broke her concentration, though she did not open her eyes. 

“Is there something you require?” 

“No. I just had a question.” 

“Yes?” Zarya couldn’t imagine what it could be, but it must be important. 

“How long have you known Miss Volskaya?” 

Zarya’s eyes slowly slid open. She looked up at the bed, catching a glimpse of brown hair creeping over the side of the mattress. How long had it been? She tried to remember, grasping through her memories for the moment she became the right hand of the Motherland.

“Around four years. I suppose I had known _of_ her for much longer. I remember a broadcast she recorded for all the soldiers during our training. A message to raise our nationalist spirits.” She recalled with fondness the stern but passionate words Miss Volskaya spoke over that broadcast. At that time, she did not know Zarya, or that she even existed. Neither of them could have predicted that only a few years later they would be working side by side. “After I made a name for myself in the war, Miss Volskaya sought me out.”

That day, Zarya was brought to Volskaya’s office in a car with heavily tinted windows and sent straight to her personal office. She would never forget her own excitement and trepidation, and the stiffness of the President’s posture as she leaned over two deceptively casual bottles of vodka. She had smoothly offered one to Zarya with long, graceful, manicured fingers. The next four years vanished into a whirlwind of new experiences.

“A very long time,” Zarya murmured to herself. She commented with some humor, “For a Russian soldier, at least. I am surprised I have not died yet, from a bullet or too much vodka.”

“Oh my. She must have made quite the impression.” Mei was correct. There were times that Zarya had felt as passionately about Volskaya herself as she had the speech, though in vastly different ways. “There was a time when I was in the Antarctic where… something very bad had happened and I was alone. At that time I received a broadcast from an old friend. His words inspired me, made me feel stronger than ever. I’m glad you were able to work so closely with Miss Volskaya.” 

After a moment of thoughtfulness, she continued. 

“I’ve never tried vodka, but I hear it has quite the kick. The other scientists go off to drink after hours, but I don’t think I’m invited to that.” She laughed, genuinely tickled. “Afraid I’ll drink them under the table.”

“I would pay to see that!” Zarya chuckled. ”Do not let them get to you. They see you as their failure to protect Volskaya’s technology. But that is their own fault. Sometime we will invite ourselves to their drinking. They will not like it at first, but they will see reason eventually.”

She heard Mei laugh again and felt a little awkward. Vodka was easy to talk about. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with the other information, though. Nobody was really sure what happened in the Antarctic. Nobody but Overwatch. Zarya always suspected it was something unpleasant and now she had some confirmation.

“When I first came here I was really nervous. Especially once I found out I would have a bodyguard. You really intimidated me, Miss Aleksandra.” As she should. Though she could not fathom why Mei was bringing this up. She heard her yawn from the bed. “But I was wrong about you. You’re really nice. I’m glad I was able to meet you.” 

Zarya wasn’t sure what to say to that. She let it linger in silence until she heard soft snores indicating that Mei had fallen asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. We'll be back again with another chapter soon! Probably within the next week or so.


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